Her Freedom
by SilverChrysanth
Summary: She was a survivor; everything that was ever thrown at her just bounced off her own bomb-proof shields. So how could the destruction of a simple testing apparatus somehow get through it? One-shot. (Entry for WA Broken Object Challenge.)


_This is my entry to the Writer's Anonymous Broken Object Challenge. S'not much else to say, besides an apology if any parts are confusing. I accidentally went over the word limit the first go around and had to fix it._

* * *

Chell wanted to cry. And laugh. And talk. Basically everything imaginable with her voice – that one moment of triumph where she would say something witty and get the last word, the final close to her time in hell, after she finally, _finally_ walked out of the darkness. But she didn't. Even though for once, she thought ecstatically, she didn't have to be afraid of where she moved, where she jumped, or even how she _breathed_ wasn't a constant issue to be carefully calculated quickly and efficiently. It was just hard-wired into her brain.

The air was so clean and devoid of the slight chemically sterile smell that followed her everywhere, not powerful enough to linger as she had stepped out of the lift. If she'd had other clothes to wear, she would have burned her jumpsuit. But she planned to as soon as possible.

She'd walked through the dirt, both arms spread wide, hands brushing the golden crops as they danced in the wind seemingly all for her, the white clouds the same color as the facility and _Her_ but still so _different_ and alive, starkly contrasting against the sky. She thought it had to be a dream; nothing could be so wonderful. Or maybe she was dead. The whe- golden crops looked like angels. But no, she was alive and breathing and she had escaped. And nothing was pulling her back into the facility in a half-state of consciousness.

And to top it all off, the cherry on the cake as she would put it – not having the mind or energy for well put-together metaphors – she had her Cube with her. She had mixed feelings about it of course, but when she picked it up and heard its soft humming despite its charred surface, it made her feel something she hadn't in what was probably years, if that broken announcer had been anything to go by.

Content.

She was content. Something she would never have been able to feel in That Place. The thought that she didn't have to brace herself for the painful recoil, the dizzy feeling, however decreased from time, of soaring through a portal at nauseating speeds, the back-of-the-throat taste of going through the emancipation grids. She didn't _have_ to do anything, and that was the best feeling in the world.

But of course, if not one thing, there was always another. She'd realized a long time ago that if one thing went right, if one of her goals had been accomplished, then something else would go wrong and the door into the Not-Currently-In-Danger-That-Will-Kill-You room would shut with a slam, effectively locking her out for another long set of time. And this was no different.

Just hours after her first taste of freedom, and just minutes after she'd walked past the golden crops and onto swaying green grass that stretched for a while before stopping at the edge of a forest, she'd heard it. Or at least she'd felt it before she heard it. It was a deep, rumbling sound, and for the tiniest of heart-in-throat moments she imagined that this was just another test, but her fears were negated when she heard the sound. It was a deep throaty sound, as if some kind of strange animal was _mooing_ into a speaker that made it sound fuzzy.

She'd spun around, looking back in the direction of _That-Place_ that she'd promised never to even turn in to see something giant lumbering towards her. It looked like some kind of massive insect with long spindly legs and the color of brownish sand. Underneath and around it were people – _people!_ Her mind screamed before it screamed _Wait Not Good People!_ – in uniforms that had guns that made actual bullet holes, not portal holes, and some other kind of creatures that she didn't get a good glimpse of. Before she could even react to the giant hulking monster, out of nowhere some kind of hovering craft flew from the sky and started dropping more of the little creatures onto the ground. And to add to the mess of organic things far in front of her more people in clothes that blended with the wheat sprung up out of the crops, attacking them with a barrage of their own bullets.

Not good. Since when were there insects bigger than cargo trucks? Chell didn't exactly remember a whole lot about the surface world and had practically no memories of her own but she thought she would have remembered big fuzzy things that almost looked like turrets on steroids with lots and lots of feelers, if it could be called that.

But she hadn't survived down There for all that time by asking questions first and moving later, so she stayed true to tradition and kicked into overdrive, turning back around and bolting through the grass away from the war going on behind her, not exactly sure what she intended to do. Holding the Cube was difficult enough, but her hopes rose a little when she saw objects in the distance previously thought to be the trees. They were buildings.

She ran towards them in a kind of awkward hop-jump with the Cube, using all of her energy to hold it steady and not trip in the uneven ground. Could she even complain that her boots weren't designed for rough terrain? She didn't really know, and at that moment, she couldn't really care.

She finally made it to the trees and spared a look behind her. If she hadn't been hit yet, most likely no one noticed her. They were a ways off when she first saw them, and by now she could barely hear the noise of gunfire. She didn't waste another second and jogged off through the trees, happy to have the goal of reaching the buildings. That was always good. Having a goal meant she could work towards it, always making progress towards that goal even if it was tiny and unnoticeable at first.

As she strode deeper into the woods the sunlight that penetrated the thick canopy made it through less and less, until she was only going by the light of the Cube, however dim it may have been. After spending so long in the wonderful light she was having difficulty seeing, slowing down as much as she could to avoid tripping over roots and whatever else was in the way, failing more times than she would care to admit. But as stubborn as she was she would never even think that the smooth ground was in any way preferable to this, the pros of being on the surface instead of Back There outweighing the cons so much that even the weight of Wheatley paled in comparison.

Chell tripped over a vine, the Cube smashing into a bush. 'No,' she thought. 'I can't think of that.' It was bad enough that every time she looked at the sky she saw his blue optic, and probably every time she saw the moon she would think of those last few seconds of-

 _GrabMeGrabMeGrabMeeeeeeeee_. _.._

And be forced to relive it as if she had one of her own black box quick-save features. But just thinking about him at all sent her mind hurdling, the carefully calculated track of her mental pathways screwing out of place and going to the dark parts of her mind.

She untangled her heel spring from the vine and stood up, dusting off her hands before picking the Cube back up. Its humming somewhat calmed her racing thoughts, and she set off again, careful not to lose track of which way she was going and end up going in circles, good sense of direction though she had.

The woods were dark and silent, and if it wasn't for the Cube then Chell would be unnerved. It was different from the silence of the facility; there she was sure there were nothing more than maybe a few rats skittering in the darkness and shadows, but here she had no idea what to expect, and every sound and rustle put her already-fried nerves even more on edge, coiling tighter and tighter with each passing second. Shadows seemed to jump out at her in her peripheral vision, and she almost thought she could hear whispers in the back of her mind, the unmistakable sound of too-sweet innocent voices, fear and dread lacing through her stomach. She had to force herself not to speed up several times; knowing it wouldn't help and she would just trip even more. But the more she was surrounded by darkness the more she felt choked by it, until she could hardly breathe and her chest felt like it was filled with lead.

It took a while, but finally the sun started to shine again, and her darker thoughts turned back to face the warmth again. It had been so _long_ since she'd seen the sun, and just being in a dark place for a few minutes stretched on into agony.

She came into a clearing and stopped abruptly when she found herself looking at a gray stone wall. She looked up, but the top of the building disappeared into the canopy, giving her barely enough room to see a little above her without stepping out of the forest completely. She adjusted the Cube in her grip, took a deep breath, and walked forward.

When she could see clearly, she saw that the building must have been some kind of business, having too little color and a lot of office-looking windows to be a house. It was old and its exposed support beams were crumbling. But it could have been a house for all she knew though; who was she to judge?

She cautiously moved around it, putting the Cube down as she searched for a way in. She planned on putting as much distance between herself and That Place below the strange war going on. After a minute she found a man-sized hole conveniently low to the ground so she figured it was as good a door as any and went back to retrieve the Cube. After she came back she hoisted it up through the opening and jumped inside, landing in a small simple room with little furnishings. She set the Cube down on a table on the opposite wall of the hole and sat in a chair next to it.

Finally having a chance to breathe and being over the initial shock of being on the surface, Chell could finally think. Since a long time ago she thought nothing could surprise her anymore; after one that incident with the Energy Pellet and the pink Turret she kind of figured she'd seen the most Aperture had to offer, although it in no way inhibited her caution. She'd learned to expect everything and trust nothing, and after that final battle she'd figured it was a good time to go into retirement from absolutely _everything_.

But of course, the universe had to interfere again. Maybe if she'd slept a few hundred years longer she could have avoided this, or maybe it would have been worse with no humans at all, but although she wasn't exactly the best one to ask she didn't it was really normal or anything. They hadn't looked friendly, but she figured there was still some kind of government left, judging by the uniforms of the one group. The world was different than before; even she could tell.

 _Things have changed since the last time you left the building._

The words rang in Chell's head. She didn't forget much of what the AI had said, no matter how ludicrous her words were. She never thought anything _She_ said would even be remotely true, but perhaps there were some things she didn't lie about.

 _What's going on up there will make you_ wish _you were back in here._

 _I'm the only thing standing between us, and_ them.

Thinking about the past wasn't going to help anything, though. She was here, and she was alive, for the moment. And she was pretty ticked off, so she would absolutely make sure she stayed alive. The universe kind of owed her for all the crap it'd thrown at her.

She looked around the small space; there wasn't much else besides the table. The Cube hummed quietly to itself all the while, making her eyelids droop. As if a light had gone off in her head or the adrenaline had simply worn off she suddenly took notice of the ache in her body. She was tired in every muscle, nerve, and bone, and places she didn't even remember having hurt. She wasn't sure if her stomach hurt from that explosion in the Core Annex or because she was hungry with no chemicals to silence it, but she knew if she didn't find food soon she might not wake up if she let herself sleep. She didn't have much time before her body would force her to collapse so she forced it up and through the door near her. She wouldn't even think of bringing the Cube and wasting precious energy, calming music or not. Then again it was probably better not to have it with her since it would just encourage her to sleep.

There was enough light by the windows to see by, so she had no trouble moving through the silent hallways to look in different rooms for anything. Most of them only held desks and shelves or tables with long-dead computers and papers, but she figured it was lucky at least that none of them were locked.

As she kept going, she distracted herself from her fatigue by untying the upper half of her jumpsuit and zipping it back up to ward off the chill in the air. At least it covered up the giant logo on her tank top with a smaller one, but now she looked like an inmate. She shivered at the comparison. But at least it was better than having to explain it when and if she found friendly humans. That was another reason to keep going.

She was taken out of her thoughts when she looked inside another room and was met with what looked like a pantry. She quickly stepped inside and walked to the nearest shelf, inspecting its contents. She was relieved to find canned food. She grabbed a few of them at random – peaches and tomato soup – grateful for something other than beans. She looked inside the metal cabinets in the room and found a can opener but no spoon; although eating utensils wasn't exactly a main concern for her at the time. With her treasures in hand she walked back to the first room, going by the sound of the Cube's lullaby, setting them down next to the thing.

She looked outside to check for any signs of life, wondering if she should have chosen the first building she found. Yes, it had food and a decent chair and table but who knew which direction that battle had gone? She didn't have much energy to spare but she was still nervous. But after prying open a can of soup and sucking it down cold, she'd used the last of her energy and folded her arms on the table, resting her head against them in the direction of the hole. Hopefully if anything came through it would wake her up. But if she hadn't been mistaken it seemed as though the Cube started to sing a little louder, and as her eyes started to drift closed she wasn't so sure.

…

When she opened her eyes, it was dark. The Cube's soft pink glow illuminated the room, balancing out Chell's night vision. She stood up, stretching her stiff limbs and looking around. Nothing but the shadows seemed to have changed, but she was still cautious as she moved towards the hole. It probably hadn't been the best idea to sleep so close to it, but it only meant it gave her two exits instead of one. But maybe her dreams were making her paranoid, although she couldn't even begin to try and sort through them, images and sounds blended together all contained within _that voice_ and just another part of her life she couldn't control. If they didn't ever go away she'd just figure out how to get the least amount of sleep possible.

She leaned out of the hole, seeing the forest to her right and a parking lot she hadn't noticed before to her left. She wasn't sure, but she thought that there would have been some sort of noise, like crickets or owls. But everything was eerily quiet, as if the world was holding its breath just waiting for something to happen. She didn't like it.

She looked back at the Cube; even it had gone almost silent, although its light remained as if warding off danger.

She looked at the food on the table, wondering how she was going to carry it. She looked down at the top-half her jumpsuit, wondering if she could use it as a makeshift sack. Or she could look around in the rooms more. She didn't know how many there were, but the prospect of looking around in the slim chance of finding exactly what she'd wanted again – that just never worked.

No, her best bet would just be to keep moving. So she undid her jumpsuit again and tied the ends of the sleeves in front of her, stuffing the cans inside with the opener, moving to the room with the others to take as much as she could. It was a little awkward to walk with them banging against her legs but maybe soon she could find a sack or something. She looked down at her boots; she was starting over, making a new life. She'd never much thought about her old life, but with this new 'situation' and what may have been an all-out war, in with the old and out with the new, as the saying went. And besides, her old life had led to being Down There and she wanted to get as far away from that place without going all the way around the world back to it again. As far as she was concerned, there was never going to be enough distance between her and it, but she would kill herself trying.

As much as she wanted to keep moving, she forced herself to stay until daylight filtered through the hole. It was only a few hours, but being so immobile for more than a few minutes while fully awake was driving her up the wall. Not even the Cube's calming melody could ease her growing paranoia. Was it good to be so on edge out here? Or did she have to do the opposite of her actions Down There, as different as the two worlds were? She had no experience here; there was no set path, no clear or hidden sign pointing her in the direction to go. When she tested she just followed the elevators until she found an opening to disappear into the facility, at which point she had to figure out a way to take _Her_ down. But there was always a way to the main Chamber. Being on the surface now, everything was different. Like the fact that the forest, with all its darkness and strange noises, all the uncertainty that wasn't synthesized and things that could be bigger than birds, was a huge unknown. It was unpredictable, but not only that it somehow _scared_ her, and she wasn't used to being scared.

So, against her better judgment, Chell stayed. She stayed until she could see daylight and the stars faded into the sky, and birds started to chirp in the trees. She shoved down the uneasy feeling and waited until they started flying around outside. _Everything is fine_ repeated in her head like a mantra.

She stretched her stiff limbs from sitting in the chair so long and rubbed her neck from staring in the direction of the hole, getting the kinks out and knowing she would probably pay for it later. She then picked up the Cube, and jumped through the hole, grateful to finally be moving. She cringed when she landed and the cans thumped against her thighs; they were definitely going to bruise if they kept it up. But she ignored the swaying motion and started walking, away from the golden crops and the grass and the forest, towards more trees and unknown land ahead of her, excited and nervous at the same time, but still confident in her gut. It was usually never wrong.

She reached the forest, and the sounds from last night were replaced by cheerful birdsong and the clinking of the cans and the flies that buzzed around her head making her stop every once in a while to set the Cube down and swat at them. Otherwise it was a peaceful trek, and if she hadn't witnessed what she had the previous night she might've wondered why she was so on edge, if not just her tightly coiled nerves acting up.

She looked up occasionally through the canopy, seeing if she could spot clouds in the sky but never being able to. She wondered briefly if they could ever conduct a portal but then shook her head of the stupid idea. Maybe trying to sleep as less as possible wasn't quite as flexible a debate as she thought.

Chell froze when she heard a noise. It sounded like a twig snapping. She immediately dropped her Cube and whirled around, not really sure what she could do if faced with danger. She had no portal gun, and whatever it was might actually be able to move. But, like always, her suspicions were confirmed when she saw a man in camouflage with a gun pointed at her.

Not knowing what else to do, she held up her hands, keeping her face neutral.

"Hey," he said, drawing out the word a bit. "I'm not gonna hurt you. You just startled me."

Her eyes narrowed.

"It's ok," He lowered his gun just a hair, but she didn't respond, only looked between him and the weapon. He noticed and slowly put it down all the way. "Sorry. Can't be too careful."

She was about to lower her hands, but then red flags started lighting up brighter than a Discouragement Redirection Beam when she noticed several more men and women appear all around her, all wearing some kind of green clothing and all equipped with guns.

"Hey!" The first guy said. "It's ok, she isn't armed. She's just a survivor."

"How do you know?" One asked.

"I just do," the first answered, glaring at the speaker.

They all reluctantly lowered their guns and moved to the first man, checking their gear, so she dropped her hands and adjusted the knots in her sleeves.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" The man asked. She only shook her head.

"If you want, you can come with us. We're going to our nearest base, where we have supplies."

She stared at him warily, but the thought of being with other humans made her want to agree. It'd been so long since Chell had seen someone who didn't want to eventually kill her but her trust had been whittled down to barely a stub of a thing. Still, she found herself nodding anyway.

"Great," he gave her a half smile. "My name's Clint." He turned to the others. "Ok, let's head out guys!" He waved a hand in the direction to the left of where she had been going. "Just a few more miles and then-"

He was interrupted by a loud bang, and everyone drew their guns quicker than Chell could turn to look at the source. Behind them through the trees she could see several blue-ish things running towards them. They also had three legs and two eyes, one below the other.

"Hunters!" One of the gunmen ahead of them shouted.

"Come on!" Clint grabbed Chell's arm, motioning for her to follow him. She started to, but after a few feet she looked back at the Cube, stopping in her tracks.

"Leave it, it'll just slow you down," he said hurriedly.

She looked at him, and back at the Cube. The things, or Hunters, were rushing towards them and she saw bright blue projectiles blasting from them, mist trailing after them. She looked back at the man trying to save her, and time seemed to slow as if she were moving through a funnel. If she went back, there was the chance she wouldn't be able to follow him. Something told her the risk was worth it, but another part said she would be risking her life for absolutely nothing worthy. Just a box. Capable of giving out faint light and a soothing lullaby for comfort, but only if there was no other company. As time returned to normal, the second part of her won, and she forced her legs to move and followed Clint.

Chell didn't look back when she heard the explosion behind her, the telltale sign of the humming ceasing, as if she could only hear the abrupt silence.

…

They made it back to their base, and several more people had come blazing out, mowing down the monsters chasing them as Clint rushed inside followed by Chell. The sounds of bullets flying could be heard as he led her through another door into a room with barricades to a nearby concrete pillar and told her to stay there.

"We'll deal with this," he said confidently before pulling out a bigger gun and running back out the door.

She took the cans out of her sleeves and untied them before pulling the jumpsuit and zipping it back up, setting the cans and the opener down near her, forgetting about them.

She then just sat there, eventually slipping into an almost catatonic state, staring at the wall across from her, gray with flecks of white paint that hadn't quite peeled off all the way. She eventually heard silence, and a new noise start up: voices instead of violence. She didn't look as people passed her, and didn't react when some tried to interact with her. She was beyond tired, and her entire body felt heavier than a Weighted Storage Cube, especially one with legs, so that she was sure the sheer weight would cause her to fall through the concrete floor any second. She was even too tired to think, letting her thoughts wander as they pleased. It felt like an eternity had passed before Clint finally returned, kneeling next to her.

"Hey," he said, trying for a friendly smile.

She came out of her dazed state and looked at him, and tried to return it, but her face was stiff and it must have come out as more of a cringe.

"You hungry?" He asked, ignoring her pathetic attempt at being social. As if it heard, her stomach grumbled loudly, making him chuckle slightly.

"Come on. Let's get some food." He offered her his hand, and with an almost audible sigh she accepted it, letting him hoist her up. She would probably have time to think later.

She followed him through different rooms, flinching with darting eyes every time someone spoke around her. It was awful, like any minute they would all disappear and she would find herself staring at shimmering blue and orange and _the voice would appear all around her like the hiss of neurotoxin and fill her head and-_

"Hey."

The voice brought her to a screeching halt, and she looked up, startled.

"I said it's through here." Clint had a worried expression on her face. She nodded, following him through a door and shaking her head when he wasn't looking. The room she found herself in was a decent size, and was obviously a cafeteria of some sort with tables and benches lining the floor, as well as several windows on one wall looking into a kitchen. Clint eventually stopped at a table in one corner, pulling out a chair for her. Chell hesitated, but finally sat down. Without another word the man walked away to the kitchen through a door, but from her angle she couldn't see what he was doing. A minute or two later he walked back with a few packages in his hand. He tossed two of them to her and took a seat next to her.

"One's a thing of what's supposed to pass for a sandwich, I think. And the other's a medkit, in case you need one."

She nodded, looking down at them. One was a simple off-white box, and the other was blood red – she tried not to wince at the thought – with a white cross in the middle. She suddenly felt self-conscious about her undoubtedly massive amount of scars and wounds that hadn't healed yet. She could feel them everywhere, but she'd learned to mostly ignore them. Now, however, she could feel them all over as if they burned. She gingerly put the medkit down and turned her attention to the other package. She turned it around in her fingers and carefully ripped one side open, pulling out a black plastic tray that had two thin pieces of bread with a piece of cheese and meat between them. There also seemed to be a sort of dry-ish yellow sauce – mustard, her mind supplied – in it. She took a bite before she smelled it, chewing slowly. It'd been forever since she'd had solid food; despite its rather bland taste she practically wolfed it down.

She looked up as Clint coughed slightly, putting down her sandwich as she did so.

"So, do you have a name?" He asked.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Why wouldn't she have a name? But she nodded, instead. He waited a few seconds as if she would tell him, but she just picked up her food and continued eating.

"Umm," he said awkwardly. "You… Can talk, right?"

She looked at him and slowly shook her head. His shoulders sagged a little.

"Ah." He furrowed his eyebrows a little, and then his shoulders picked up a little as if he had an idea. "Be right back," he said quickly, getting up and jogging into the kitchen again. When he came back, he had a notepad in his hand along with a pencil. He set them down in front of Chell, giving her an encouraging smile as he sat back down.

She raised one eyebrow at him before staring thoughtfully at the pad, setting down her food and picking up the pencil. She tapped it on the table a few times before settling on what exactly to say, writing out a simple answer. She didn't want to tell anyone anything unless it was beneficial, doubtless though it would ever be, and even then it would take a lot of considering.

 _My name is Chell._

She slid the pad towards Clint, and after reading it he nodded and pushed it back to her. "Nice to meet you, Chell. Did you escape from the city, by any chance? Or are you part of the resistance?"

She went to shake her head, and then remembered the pad.

 _I'm just a survivor._

She hoped it would be enough.

"Yeah, we get a few of you every once in a while. People manage to somehow get out of the city, and some even make it in one piece." He shifted, changing topic. "You know I've never seen boots quite like yours."

She had just finished the last of her food, but she almost choked on the bread. She carefully considered her response, and then slowly wrote it down.

 _They're prototypes._

He nodded again. "Right." He looked at her empty plate. "Well, if you're done, I can find you a room here. You can rest for a while and heal up a little, and then we can talk about what to do."

She gave him a quizzical look that didn't need explanation.

He shrugged. "Well, if you want to join us or not. We're always looking for more people, and I'd be willing to bet that you've held a gun before."

Chell held back a snort. He had _no_ idea.

"Come on. Let's go look for an empty room," he said, standing up again and smiling.

Chell stood and smiled back, a little more used to the action.

…

True to his word, Clint had found her a room, and although it was the size of a medium broom closet, Chell was grateful. It had a bed, a metal desk with a squeaky chair, and a window the size of her head. Despite having had way too much of it, she needed to be alone. Although, now she had time to think it, she realized that she had rarely ever been _truly_ alone Down There. She'd always had the Voice to follow her, and after the big fall she was only by herself for a few minutes. Now though, she was completely alone, sitting on the floor against the wall, absently looking at the medkit in her hands.

Voices drifted through the wall near her head, and she could hear birds chirping outside. The base was surrounded by a thick forest, but this one just wasn't the same as the first. She wasn't sure if it was because of the hidden sentries Clint had told her about, scattered throughout random branches and small man-made platforms, but it didn't set her nerves on fire. Although, they may have just been shot beyond repair to the point that they didn't really work anymore.

And that thought brought her to her earlier burden. The Companion Cube.

She hadn't quite believed it when she heard the door shoot open and spit out the charred thing before it shut violently again, and she had stood there for a good five minutes trying to process it. _She_ wouldn't have done this. It seemed impossible for such an unfeeling pile of numbers and wiring and plates to actually do something nice for a change, something so utterly _human_. Whether it was sympathy because She knew there was something up there, empathy because she knew what it was like to lose something like that, or even a kind of relationship that wasn't solely based on going for each other's throats every time they both woke up. But that couldn't be it. Of course she didn't believe the AI when She'd said she'd deleted Caroline, but to let her go willingly, when she could have shoved her back into a Chamber to test for the next sixty years like She'd promised. It just wasn't right. Their time in the Old Place hadn't exactly been brief, but there couldn't have been enough of a chance for something to change, even when the supercomputer promised to let her go.

Maybe that was it.

She was just keeping a promise in exchange for putting her back in charge, even though she'd ripped her out of the mainframe to begin with. So really, for all intents and purposes, giving her the Cube back would have never been a plausible outcome. And yet…

That would mean that She would have had the Cube for a long time, and that she kept track of it and when it didn't completely fizzle in the incinerator. Maybe in a last moment of "weak" human clarity she'd shoved it up there; alarmingly fast for Chell having just exited the elevator, too. But she must have known it was too big to carry practically. Maybe that was her intent, in an effort to get the last word in. Even though she apparently had anyway.

So why was Chell mourning it? Sure, it had helped her through those early Chambers and all, but it was designed to and she couldn't advance without it. It shouldn't have meant so much to her, but _it did_. After having been on her own so long it wasn't unreasonable to grow attached to things, like she did with the portal device. Her arms even now hung limply at her sides, almost aching to be holding the familiar cold white alloy-plating and the small triggers inside. For a moment she hated her humanity and her attachments, seeing them only as weakness, even though that was the very thing she had clung to Down There, when all she saw were the clean-cut panels and the calculated lines, all the work of artificial life, mimicking nature. She was, perhaps, the last living organism down there – besides the potatoes, although that was another story entirely – and she would have killed and torn through every Core and Turret and wall if she could just to get out. She had no conscience for machines, and shutting them down was only a part of escaping. She tried to tell herself that it was just because she needed it to escape, and only because she needed light did she bring the Cube with her. But the hole in her gut was telling her otherwise.

She was human. And as such, she had a habit of growing attached to things she had in her possession, even after only a few hours. She would be foolish to believe all humans were the same in that regard, but that familiar piece of her life was all that had anchored her, when every other semi-intelligent half-conscious thing tried to tear her to pieces; when eventually they all more or less abandoned her, that Cube had, in a way, saved her. Sure, the humans she found here had also saved her, but it was as if she was just waiting for the moment when they would turn on her and throw her to the wolves, or whatever those things had been outside. She was all but beyond trusting now.

And she was tired. She'd survived hell and high water, and then she'd been pulled back into the facility for another round of escaping and trying not to die, like a synthesized game of Russian roulette, just waiting for the next pull of the trigger to be the one with the bullet. And now, she wasn't sure she could join this "Resistance". She'd given all she had, even if it was for her own preservation, but she felt she deserved a little rest. The clear blue sky and cool starry dome she'd dreamed about every time she risked letting herself sleep, it was hope that didn't die and the sheer determination that was all that kept her going sometimes to not just survive, but _live._ And now she wasn't sure she could do that. With the destruction of her Cube, she finally left the world of Aperture, but she wasn't so sure anymore that that was such a good thing.

Was it really too much to ask, even if she floated in between realities for the rest of her life? Did she really deserve to just survive and not live just because she hadn't woken up a little later, or better yet hadn't been pulled back in for who-knew how long? If she hadn't been sleeping for what seemed like a millennia, would she have woken up in the parking lot, from one hellhole to another?

She sighed, rubbing one arm. If she had to do something to survive, she would. She always would, as long as she could stand, as long as she could fight – as long as she could _breathe_ she would survive. She would keep going, even if it killed her. She wouldn't stop until she reached her goal, the one above all else. Until she lived.

No matter how tired she was, she would keep going. The destruction of the Cube was only a small moment in her life. She knew it was gone. It made her sad.

But really, no matter how she felt, it wasn't going to get her anywhere. She knew that. Having the Cube would be a slight comfort, but it would also remind her of what she left behind. She didn't want to remember. There was this sick part of her that did, because it was familiar. Change was something she was used to, but only in the sense of the physical environment, since She could move and manipulate the facility as she pleased, minus the back areas she could barely touch. But it was something Chell knew.

She knew about portals, probably more than anyone else, even the AI. The exact way it recoiled so she could shift her hold to compensate so she could time her momentum through the portals and make split-second decisions on where to place the next one and avoid the acid pits. She could see where the placements would work best in her favor, and usually see the most efficient ways to solve a Test. The supercomputer _was_ right about one thing: The best solution to a problem was usually the easiest one. Still though, that didn't necessarily mean they were easy to begin with. And she was good at it. Despite her absolute seething hatred of anything with the logo Aperture, she was good. Maybe even the best. It benefitted her to be, so she took it.

But she was out of her element here. The entire time she was in Aperture, she was dying to get out. But now that she was, she was left feeling naked without the portal device and ultimately alone without the Cube. She'd held onto the one she used the second time she woke up, until it fizzled even after the Grid was broken. And in a way, here she felt useless.

She found herself thinking back to what Clint had said. Just because she might know how to gold a gun didn't mean she knew how to use one. It must have been different than the portal gun; the aiming and the recoil certainly wouldn't be the same, as well as the weight. She wouldn't know until she tried, but if she did then that would mean she would have to decide.

But she knew she had to. She had to adapt. That was what humans were known for, after all. Humans couldn't walk on water, so they created boats. They couldn't breathe it, so they made submarines. They couldn't survive in space, so they made ships and suits. They couldn't endure long falls, so they made boots. And even when faced with impossible odds, she'd adapted and used everything she had to get through Aperture. Through the synthesized fury of her enemy, to the betrayal of something she'd been stupid enough to put her trust, her _faith_ in, to narrowly avoiding a one-way trip into space. But she would have learned very quickly what it felt like to be imploded from within, minutes after being blown up from without, if not for the one obstacle that had stood in her way almost the entire time she was Down There.

GLaDOS.

Chell just didn't know what to think of her anymore. When she'd first woken up, she'd shrugged off the voice as pre-recordings and did what she was told, figuring she wouldn't have been there if she hadn't wanted to be even though she couldn't remember much about her life. It should have been odd, to remember things like history and math, but no memories of her actual life. Maybe it'd been denial.

And then the recordings had started to sound a little off, as if the voice was holding back. And then it gave up being subtle and downright tried to murder her. So she returned the favor.

But after he… After Wheatley woke her up, she thought he was the only sane Core in Aperture. But, of course, she was proven wrong again. Go figure.

But then she was forced to carry GLaDOS with her, spouting words from a tiny potato shoved onto the end of the portal device unceremoniously so Chell would be able to grip the thing in both hands. And during all that time in Old Aperture, her thoughts started to change. She realized that GLaDOS wasn't just crazy, she was _bitter._ As a human, Caroline was forced into a position that she didn't want, and all of that anger came out as GLaDOS. And now the supercomputer hated humans. All of them besides her, apparently. But Chell told herself that it was only because she was good at testing, not because the AI had become to regard her as a friend. She hadn't believed one word of that final speech, true to her word, or lack-their-of.

But then she'd given her back the Cube.

Chell gripped her sides, standing up and sitting down on the bed to try and get the worst of her wounds. She might've ignored it, but that last ride, when all the turrets started singing, it changed everything. It was the final push. She didn't think about it until now, but they were singing in what sounded like Italian. And she understood every word.

She winced as she got a look at herself underneath her shirt. Scars crisscrossed her body and angry red cuts made her look like an unwashed cutting board. She sighed, trying to make some use of the medkit Clint had given her.

She glanced up at the window as a bird flitted past it. Despite its changes, the world still looked the same. The sky was there; it wouldn't be moving anytime soon, as far as she knew. And while the ground could move, it wouldn't be calculated or precise, the 1's and 0's of the facility. And there were people here. People with beating hearts and organic brains, trying to survive like her, preserve their world, like her – more or less. And with that realization, Chell made a decision.

She would fight. She was a part of this world now, with everyone else and if she truly wanted her freedom – truly wanted to live, she would do whatever it took to make that happen.

She would miss the Cube for a long time, but for now she would drop into the back reaches of her brain, the category of Aperture, the file labeled DO NOT TOUCH in huge blocky letters, flashing red at her as if from a screen. She might take it out every once in a while, just to remind her that she was still human, still had energy in her. However long it took, even if she was old and in a wheelchair, she would ensure the freedom of herself and humanity. Maybe that was the purpose of her being there: to help fight back against the odds.

And she would not only welcome change, but she would beat it, throw it in an acid pit, and show it who's boss for as long as she could.

As long as she was, after all, still alive.


End file.
